


The Claimed Sin

by EmmalinaInvendere



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (Graphic) Body Worship, BDSM-Elements, F/M, a little bit of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:22:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6007867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmalinaInvendere/pseuds/EmmalinaInvendere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day Primrose Potter disappeared marked the day the Dark unofficially won. Years later, she returned as Lady Malfoy. This is about a little Moment told from the perspective of Lord Malfoy about his beautiful wife who he delights in worshipping. It's just his luck that his wife is simply so stunning that she always gives him new reasons to declare her his Religion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Claimed Sin

** The Claimed Sin **

 

The Girl-who-lived.

The Chosen One.

The Woman-who-stayed-neutral.

 

History books, those of neutral or light descend at least, could never exactly pinpoint the moment when Primrose Jade Potter choose to stay neutral in the long-going conflict between the Dark Lord Voldemort, nowadays known as Lord Slytherin, and the Light Leader Albus Dumbledore, so sadly deceased in the last battle with Lord Slytherin. The exact moment, purpose or reason behind her neutrality was never known, all that was made public was, that her decision of neutrality paved the way of victory for the Dark Side. For a rather … disturbingly gleeful Dark Side. Well, for Death Eaters the knowledge that the Light Beacon of Hope made their glorious win possible was truly a delicious morsel. But to stay on topic, all that those history books could accurately tell, was that the Potter heiress disappeared at the end of her fifth year only to resurface three years later after Lord Slytherin was declared High Lord of Magical Britain and Ireland, on the arm of the young and charming Lord Draconius Lucius Malfoy as Lady Primrose Malfoy, giving her husband the absolute power over the Most Noble and Ancient Potter, Black and Peverell lines.

Well, while it may be true that the scribes of light and neutral history couldn’t pinpoint the moment the light oh-so spectacularly lost, Lady Primrose husband made sure that the Dark knew the moment they really lucked out. It was the moment in the Ministry of Magic's atrium, while Lord Voldemort tried to possess Primrose Potter, that his Lord became aware of not only his and Rose’s relationship but also the mistreatment of his then-fiancé; it was then that Lord Voldemort gave Rose a truly generous chance: She could stay neutral, hidden and with her beloved, supported in their relationship and eventual marriage by the Dark Lord himself, or she could fight against her love, his family and friends and avenge her parents.

Draco honestly didn’t expect her to choose him. He thought he had finally fucked up so much that he had lost her.

He should have known that she would always surprise him. 

She surprised him then, and she still continued to surprise him now.

Another thing she insisted on continuing until his early grave was to arouse him somewhat painfully.

What would the Light say if they could see her now?

Lying in their bed on green satin sheets, wearing nothing but a scandalously tight little black dress that temptingly complimented the milky white of her exposed skin. 

He stood before their bed and stared down at her peacefully sleeping form, arousal peaking up as he watched the slow up and down of her heavy bust. This little piece of clothing did truly nothing to hide the teasing shape of her beautiful form, and Draco knew that she only wore it for him, for his pleasure, his desire.

His mouth was dry as he let his gaze wander up her long full legs, licking his lips as the short hem of her skimpy dress stopped quiet a way up her thighs, exposing the blackish-blue hand prints claiming her flawless soft skin where he had held her the previous evening while devouring her through passionate love-making.

His gaze wandered further up her glorious thighs, following the wide plush curve of her gorgeous hips, just begging to comfortably birth children for him, so luxuriously and generous that they could easily accommodate twins or triplets. They flowed lovely into the softness of her curved tummy up to her small waist and seamlessly onwards to her heavy bust that was barely captured by the black fabric, the neckline so stretched that it scarcely concealed the deep dark red of her rose buds. Blackish bruises like fingerprints riddled sinfully the breathtaking cleavage and neck she loved to show.

He leaned forward, slowly, and run one slim finger down her soft cheek, smiling at her peaceful face and the calm trust she exuded. His finger caressed gently through her hair, tender and loving, and he was once again tempted to kiss his sleeping beauty awake.

She looked simply so beautiful.

He didn't need the mocking voice of his godfather in the back of his head to remind him that he, once again, must look like the lovesick fool he was, all gooey-eyed and stoned-on-pheromones looking. Honestly, the man even had held a mirror before his face on one occasion just to demonstrate and prove to Draco exactly how pathetic he looked. True, he looked kinda embarrassing, but .. who wouldn't, when they looked at the very centre, and what a lovely centre it was, of their very own little world. Merlin, he really was a lovesick fool!

He couldn't have held his moan of exasperate despair back if he had tried.

It was all that was needed to wake her.

His gaze snapped up to meet Rose's sleepy eyes, two gorgeous emerald green orbs partly hidden beneath a sea of long black lashes.

“ Hey there, beautiful”, was his purred greeting.

A small giggle escaped her, sounding rather tired still, as she answered him, her sweet voice deeper and rougher with sleep, sending shivers down his back.

“ Hey there … b-back, handsome.”

His smile turned into a lecherous smirk as he watched her slowly sit up, adorable and sleep-rumbled, her gorgeous green eyes blearily blinking up at him. She carded a thin hand through her short black hair and he chuckled amused. As if she could ever really tame the devil on her head. It was a definite improvement to the shaggy long hair she sported during their school years; the shortness gave success to the illusion of order. It had helped tremendously that the hair style his mother had convinced Rose to realise for their wedding two years ago only brought out how truly delicate and aristocratic her features were; her frail face framed by neatly cut short strands falling smoothly against her head in a semblance of purpose. She was like a sprite, a fae of old, a being whose attention brought forth the feeling of lovely otherworldliness. 

But what he loved even more, especially at this moment, with a very advantageous front row seat, was the way her ample bust heaved up and down, restricted badly only by the tight black dress that seemed painted to her every curve, showing just how heavy and natural her beautiful breast were. His arousal climbed up even more, making his own sex slowly come alive as his greedy eyes traced the contour of her rose buds, the cold making them erect and standing up through the thin fabric.

Slowly, sensually, he leaned forward, one hand capturing the back of her head and gripping tight the short strands while the other hand sneaked around her plush hips, bruising them exuberantly, fingers sinking violently into her soft copious flesh as she moaned wantonly against his lips, eyes hazing with lust.

She leaned hungrily into him, her hot sweet lips covered his, greedily devouring him. He closed his eyes, pressing her tighter against him, their tongues battling for dominance. His breath came in short gasps as he separated their months, her emerald eyes blazing with a truly unholy wicked glim that promised such a delightful retribution that his member slapped hard against his stomach. Her gaze travelled leisurely down, a smirk painted across her swollen lips at the sight of his proud erection.

“ My my, someone is truly happy to see me.”

He growled deeply.

Vixen.

“ Don't play with me, woman.”

Her lips turned up even more, a playful edge to them.

“ Oh dear, how dreadful … and here I had planned such delightful games ...”

Merlin, that fucking witch!

“ … but, well, I thought you were up for it, if that isn't the case ...”

Their eyes both looked at his weeping member, white precum slowly dripping on the satin sheets.

Quiet the opposite applied.

“ … it seems I will become better acquainted with your mothers wedding present.” 

What?! NO! He was here, he was her husband, her lover! She didn't need the fucking toys his witch of a mother had given his wife at their reception!

No way – not even over his cold dead body!

“ Only me. And the toys. Plundering my helpless body. Deep. Hard. Fast.”

… hell …

“ All. Alone.”

And his restraint died a long overdue death. 

It was with an animalistic growl that echoed gravely in their dimly lit bedroom that he threw her back down on the bed, one hand holding her hands captured above their heads. The other hand was pressed hard against her throat, his short nails drawing blood.

She moaned loudly.

Exquisite.

“ You now, lover ...”

What now?! He just wanted her to shut the fuck up and spread the legs. He was her lord, her lover – he was her world and she would learn her place.

She would learn where she belonged.

Speared on his shaft.

Debouched.

Claimed.

Fucked before him. By him.

Oh yes!

“ … I hope that our child will be a boy … a little boy to grow up just as forceful and dominating as his gorgeous father … just like you, love ...”

What …

“ Rose ...”

Even nearly crazed with lust and desire, her eyes held a certain softness to them as she looked him square in the silver eyes.

“ Yes”, her smirked softened into a smile as she let her body melt even more into his, completely trusting and accepting. “ I hope that our child growing within me at this moment will be just like his or her father.”

A child … a child! They would be parents! They … they were expecting a family, the expansion of their own little family. Oh Merlin, how he had longed to hear this words. And finally, finally she had said them … this moment was nearly as beautiful as that moment in their fifth year at the astronomy tower, as she had told him that she loved him to. He was so happy, he nearly was bursting so wide and carefree was his grin!

A child. Their child.

Just … amazing.

“ How ...”

She smiled knowingly.

“ I'm two months along. That means that you still have eight months of pregnancy to suffer with me, dear. Just imagine: Morning sickness, Food cravings, Mood swings, Bloating like a whale, back pain, swollen ankles – and everything is your fault.”

Naturally – as if he would want anyone else but himself to be at fault for that! Only he would ever impregnate his wife! But really, if she expected him to be afraid than that had really backfired – he couldn't wait for the next few months! He bit his lips to keep from grinning to much, not wanting to give away just how giddy he was. 

And not only because he was going to be a father.

Rose was really beautiful, she had always been beautiful. At Hogwarts she had been that malnourished small girl with the beautiful green eyes hidden behind hideous glasses and the long wild black tresses that looked like broom bristles badly bound together. A sickly looking thing that won his heart through her wit and soul. Now, after their wedding, she was the curvaceous vixen Lady Malfoy, all illuminating white skin, free gorgeous green eyes and delicate features, wrapped in a sophisticated form presenting maturity and sexy sensuality. The perfect image of a young careless pureblood lady. But the pregnancy would show yet another side of her, of that he was sure. He had already seen flashes of the future to come in her everyday behaviour, moments and desires that spoke of a woman who would bloom like the moon and shine like the sun when she finally could hold the beginning of their own little family in her arms.

But her transformation wouldn't be restricted to her daily life. His sex was nearly weeping in lust just thinking of the changes she would go through. Her impressive bust would grow even bigger, and wasn't that dirty thought just enough for him to cream his pants? Even now he needed both hands to completely grip one breast – he would need to commission new underwear for her, new lacy bras to tear from her arousal-flushed submitting body. Merlin, that was a dream he never dared to think to much about … wow. Just wow. Her breast would grow bigger, her soft limbs would grow a bit more supple, a bit more ample. And she would hold their child under her heart, her tummy rounding abundantly with the life she was bringing into this world, growing with the foetus and hopefully a few odd pounds to remain even after the pregnancy, just a little flesh to add to her lush curves and accommodate her even more opulent bust. He just wanted a bit more of Rose to hold, and hopefully his beautiful Rose would be amiable to that idea. She would look absolutely breathtaking with her small curved tummy remaining permanently more rounded just oh-so-softly, ready for him to sink his fingers and teeth in, the definite lasting prove that their love and passion was deep and hot enough to create another life. Most pureblood women lost all their curves directly after birth to slimming draughts and the like, but those women also seldom birthed more than one child, their bodies growing weak and unstable in their desire to remain thin and slim. They both wanted at least four children, and that, right there, was the reason Draco was pretty sure she would at least keep a good amount of the weight gained in the next few months until her birthing years were definitely over. Rose would never endanger her ability to become pregnant. He didn't want her to imitate the Weasel matriarch, but seeing her thin and breakable always soured his mood, reminding him painfully of her years spent malnourished and mistreated. The more life, the more abundance she showed, the happier he was. He had always admired the woman of the middle ages, woman who were presented in the most famous paintings as supple and often opulent mistresses of femininity.

The perfect woman, soft, supple and ample.

Oh Merlin, what an image.

So fucking sexy.

He grinned at her, his lips hovering just about hers as he caressed her throat, knowing that no one would ever dismiss the gorgeous chain of bruises marring his loves skin, claiming her as his.

No one would ever dismiss his claim on her or their child, the bruises encircling her like chains made sure of this. Made sure that it was him that caught this tempting vixen.

And he would take the greatest pleasure in reinforcing that image for all time.

But especially now.

“ Witch, you truly delight in shattering my world view, don't you?”

Hot greedy lips devouring his own was the only answer he got.

Merlin, how he loved that woman.


End file.
